


Only So Many Ways

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, NO a/o/b, Pack Dynamics, canon pack dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:22:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8854144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "There’s Only So Many Ways I Can Fail To Say I Love You, Before You Work Me Out."A story about Derek trying to be the right kind of Alpha, while navigating his relationship with Jackson and responsibilities of being a leader.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings (spoilers) at the end.

 

###  **There’s Only So Many Ways I Can Fail To Say I Love You, Before You Work Me Out.**

 

“I want to tell you how beautiful you look in the morning light.”

 

Derek bit his lip, training his ear to the even breathing of Jackson’s deep sleep, before carrying on.

 

“I want to tell you that you make other things look dim in comparison to the light you give off.”

 

Jackson is laying on his back, his arm bent behind his head and his jaw struck up. Even in sleep his body language is like a challenge, an affront. His expression however is relaxed in sleep, the pinched scowl that he wears like an armour replaced. Eyelashes gently coast the top of his high cut cheek bones, and Jackson’s mouth is soft and replete.

 

“When I’m lying to myself, I say that you don’t want to hear it-”

 

Their sheets are pushed down at the end of the bed, a room shared by two wolves doesn’t require much heating.

 

“-but I know that’s not true. I know that if anything, you need me to say it.”

 

Jackson has been Derek’s beta for two years, if you don’t count the time Derek presided over the Beacon Hills pack. (The time Derek gave Jackson the bite). Derek doesn’t - count it, that is. Looking back with the knowledge he knows now of what it means to be an Alpha, a leader, a protector… Well, it’s best not to dwell really.

 

“I feel like for everyone else I’m growing into the kind of Alpha - the kind of man - they need of me. But I’m holding out on you.”

 

It’s been a roller-coaster few years; kickstarted by some twist of mythical logic when Cora got married and the Alphahood returned to him. Just in time, it gave Cora and Anthony (“Call me Tony, Derek. We’re brothers now.”) the freedom to leave Beacon Hills - and the McCall pack. The three of them restarted their lives in Muskegon, Michigan. A state park as their garden, and a national reserve but an hour away. (“Great place for kids, right hon?” Tony had taken the Hale name, and so had their first child.)

 

“You weren’t really part of the plan, but that doesn’t excuse me. I know that.”

 

The last thing he had expected was his Uncle and Chris Argent to follow them, least of all together. Happiness was a good look on Peter, it evened him out. Derek had resisted accepting him into their peaceful new lives, but in the end, it was hard to begrudge Peter the wish to leave that place behind. Too many memories. He didn’t trust Argent (“Call me Chris, son”.) either, surprising himself with how protective he felt of his uncle. Perhaps the taste of being used _and burned_ by an Argent too familiar to let go. Inevitably it probably did wonders for his and Peter’s relationship. Like every wolf, Peter loves to feel wanted by his Alpha.

 

“You must either think I’m dumb, or you’re truly too kind to let me have this extended reprieve of pretense.”

 

In the end he couldn’t really begrudge Chris either for leaving. The man had buried his own dead in Beacon Hills and deserved a chance to not live in their tombs’ shadow. He clearly loved Peter too, in a way that often shocked Derek. Not that anyone _could_ love Peter - as the man wasn’t without his suitors before ( _before_ …) - but because of how easy he was with that love. Not hidden, not forced, never anything but whole and sure. Chris gave out love like he did bullets: like the decision was made long ago, and now there was nothing left to do but act.

 

“You really are very beautiful in this light.”

 

Derek can’t help but touch Jackson, even though he doesn’t want to wake him. He dusts his fingers down the slighter man’s forearm, tracing the reserved strength of the muscle. Jackson always had a way of looking refined without appearing dainty. Like he’d been sculpted in the mind of the Greek aesthetics.

 

“It’s a shame how tired you probably are of hearing that.”

 

Malia had followed not long after, the urge to reconnect with her father dragging her East.  Peter was so much more fathomable now that he had a heart, and a home. Derek hadn't realised what it meant to have a niece until he was brokering arguments between father and daughter. Offering his couch to her on nights she couldn't face Peter. Taking rushed conversations with his uncle as the man tried - and failed - to cobble together fatherhood.

 

Chris in the end had helped. The only one of them who had any experience in that corner. (Except Tony, but the man's daughter was still measured in months, so no one begrudged him).

 

Derek could barely believe that his pack was thriving, six of them named Hale, five of which were born that way.

 

"And then you came along."

 

Scott had advised Jackson to call him. The younger Alpha had discovered that Jackson was returning to the states: taking up an accountancy fellowship in Detroit. 3 hours from their pack's territory lines.

 

Again, Derek was hesitant. There were a lot of things he had regretted about his first stint as an Alpha. Living in a train car for one. Biting Jackson Whittemore however constituted at least three of them. It was a bad job, that lead to equally bad ramifications. The whole situation debased him as an Alpha. Moreover his treatment of the young man probably revealed his worst personality defects.

 

Keeping a wolf an omega because of your own guilt however... it didn't speak of the type of Alpha he wanted to be this time around. After sitting down with Cora and Tony to discuss their vision of their pack's future, he'd agreed.

 

"From the moment I saw you again, I think something just clicked in me."

 

Derek hadn't really considered the difference between the betas he'd 'adopted' and those he had changed himself. When it came down to it, this was probably how any of them had managed to survive the trials of Beacon Hills. (Not all of them, not enough of them). The link between an Alpha who turned a wolf is something hard to shake, and stronger than most. Meeting Jackson again was like getting a shot of adrenaline in his powers.

 

This time however, Derek is situated in a happy and healthy pack, his Betas _colleagues_ as much as they are underlings.

 

"You always were a caustic mixture of arrogant and afraid."

 

Jackson had been alone for a long time, living on the outskirts of a pack in London, just enough contact to not count as an omega. The way he looked at Derek: his human posture a challenge, his wolf already cowwed. Derek knew that he needed to fix it.

 

"Touching you is so easy this time around."

 

Derek had greeted him with a handshake, and a solid hand sliding behind Jackson's neck so he could bring their foreheads together. Jackson had whined in pleasure - after so long, _his Alpha wanted him_ \- and Derek was reminded of the lessons he'd learned thus far. To be an Alpha meant to give over, give out, give more.

 

"I think I've done a better job this time."

 

Derek had been good to Jackson, he hoped so. He'd been gradual in his pursuit of the younger man. Careful to never demand Jackson's company in his bed, easy with his affection in a way he modelled off better men than he: Tony, Chris, _his father._

 

They'd fallen into a routine, Jackson living an hour out in Lansing. ("Are you sure don't want somewhere closer?" "I'm already driving an hour to work -without traffic".) But it felt like there wasn't a night when one of them wasn't driving out to the other.

 

"You've been so patient with me. Never asking for more, never asking for security... I am as grateful as I am heartbroken. I know that you're scared that no one could ever want you. I'm supposed to be the one who fixes that."

 

The even rhythm of dainty paws on hardwood taps its way through Jackson's apartment. A nose pokes its way around the door to the master bedroom, and Lucy, Jackson's border collie slinks into the room. She's a beautiful red merle, her sable fur mapled into reds and whites. She pads up to the bed and rests her muzzle on the bed on Jackson's side. Looking at the man faithfully, whilst sparing a few glances at Derek.

 

Derek was never one for dogs, but to be fair to Lucy, neither was she. There was only one wolf in her life, Jackson. And Derek knew that when in London, the two of them had built their own little pack. He was grateful for the support she must have given him, even if he was a little jealous at times.

 

Jackson whines in his sleep a little, and Lucy takes it as confirmation that she can jump on the bed. Jackson's arm coming up to catch her instantly - the process of sleep to wakefulness streamlined - and he buries a hand into her fur.

 

Jackson's free arm goes to reach out to Derek, to check if he's still lying beside him, and it catches Derek on the jaw. Jackson smiles, peaking his eyes open to find Derek sitting up and leaning over him.

 

"Hey."

 

"Good morning."

 

"Mmmh, what time is it?"

 

"Just gone five."

 

Jackson let's out a whine, which sets Lucy off too, and she licks his face.

 

"I need to get up if I'm going to walk her before work." Jackson doesn't make any move to leave the bed, his hands still attached to Derek and Lucy respectively. _His pack_.

 

"You've got time."

 

"No," Jackson is shaking his head, a little pout on his lips, "need to be in work before 9am today. Got a meeting."

 

Derek gives in to temptation and leans forward to kiss Jackson, his lips open to him, and bitter from sleep.

 

"I can walk her." Jackson opens his eyes, his pupils dilating in the light as they adjust to how close Derek is to his face.

 

"You sure?"

 

"Yeah, I don't mind. Take another hour's sleep." Jackson's smile is small and private, like Derek has given him permission to not worry.

 

* * *

 

 

"Have you got plans this evening?" Derek asks over a mouthful of toast. He's still in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, and looks increasingly more nude as Jackson gets ready for the day.

 

Jackson hesitates tying his tie and looks over, "oh, well-" Derek hates that he does this to Jackson. He doesn't mean to, but the younger wolf never seems to know if Derek is asking to see him. It's painful to watch him tie himself in knots trying to convince Derek that he's not presuming anything, "-it's Friday, so I'll probably get invited to work drinks."

 

"Drinking with accountants, the high life."

 

"They’re dickheads who can't hold their liquor."

 

"Funny how much they enjoy your company."

 

"Bitch." Jackson snaps, with a smile. His heart upticking as it always does whenever he playfights with Derek. _Don't hurt, don't hate, don't leave me._

 

"If you decide it's not worth the time, come out to my place tonight."

 

Derek is rewarded with that smile again, and it's hard to stay seated at the breakfast table, and not get up and kiss him.

 

"What about Lucy?"

 

Derek shrugs, "I can take Lucy home with me. Take her over to Peter's and let her bully Devin for a few hours."

 

Jackson is doing that thing where he's analysing everything as quickly as possible, trying to find out where the rub is. What the catch must be.

 

"What if I don't come?" _Will you still want me if I don't do what you ask of me._

 

Derek shrugs, "then I get to have Lucy as company for the weekend. I'll run her back on Sunday."

 

Jackson smiles, "that's growth. She bit you the first time you met."

 

"You say that like I'd forget."

 

Lucy, knowing that they were talking about her, padded into the kitchen with her lead in her mouth. Nosing Jackson's thigh.

 

"I'm glad you made it up."

 

"We had a mutual acquaintance to bond over, I've forgiven more for less."

 

They kiss at the door when Jackson leaves. Derek pushes in the words he didn't manage to say, _again._ Jackson's fingers gripping his arm like an anchor. Lucy is scrabbling at the door post, confused as to why Jackson would leave without her.

 

"It's just me and you now Luce"

 

The collie gives him a disgruntled snort and wanders back inside the house.

 

"Yeah, I'm pretty unimpressed with myself too."

 

Derek spends a few hours with his uncle and Chris when he's back in Muskegon. Lucy had already bitten Peter's heel and stolen Devin's bed. (The old Chesapeake Bay Retriever hadn't really minded. Content to lay down on the warm cracked wood of the porch beside her).

 

"You need to get your own head together before you go and put ideas in his head." Chris answers his (unasked) question of what to do about Jackson.

 

They are drinking beer in the cooling sun of the afternoon. Peter hovering about somewhere, in ear shot in only a wolf's capacity.

 

"Yeah, I was trying that. But turns out that working out what it is that _I want_ isn't as easy as I thought."

 

Chris nods, like he could understand that pain, "'you worried you might change your mind down the line?"

 

Derek had been, once. Derek had already been hesitating on moving out of the little wood cabin he'd first erected for him, Cora and Tony. The idea of finally laying the foundation stones of a Pack House intimidating all on its own. The leap of asking Jackson to live with him was a whole other commitment he was scared to take on. But it wasn't because he didn't want to get there, he just didn't think he was ready. For any of it.

 

"Nah, I think this is it for me. _He's_ it anyway." Derek smiled at the thought. Waking up every day next to Jackson for the rest of his life wasn't a threat, it was a reward.

 

"You sound sure."

 

"I am."

 

Chris gave him a smile, "then your head sounds in order."

 

"Doesn't make it any easier."

 

"You scared he'd say no to you?"

 

"No..." Derek hesitates, peeling the label on his beer. A lump threatening in this throat, "...I worry he won't be able to."

 

Chris gave him a shrewd look, "what's that supposed to mean?"

 

Derek gives a shrug, unsure how to articulate it. Thankfully - or perhaps, regretfully - Peter swooped in. "He means that he's scared he's Alpha-ing Jackson into it."

 

Chris gave the older wolf a look, and was answered with a swift kiss, and his beer being stolen. "That right Derek?"

 

Derek gives another shrug, "something like that."

 

"There any truth to it?" Chris appeared to be asking his mate as much as Derek.

 

Peter took a swig of the bottle, swilling the liquid for a second, before swallowing. "He could be."

 

Derek sent his uncle a dark look, "thanks for your vote of confidence."

 

"I thought you were here for the truth, not platitudes." Peter answered with a smug grin.

 

Chris tugged him down onto the chair next to him, stealing his beer back in the process, "alright, let's not bicker. You got any reason to think that's happening?"

 

Derek begins yet another shrug when Peter muttered, " _Jesus Christ this is hopeless_." Chris smacked his thigh and kept his eyes on Derek.

 

Derek didn't really want to answer the question, didn't really want to think about it anymore.

 

"It wouldn't be the first time I'd done it."

 

Chris eyebrows shot up to his hairline, "'you saying, that's how you got him in your bed?"

 

Peter snorted.

 

"No, I mean. Fuck, I hope not." Derek drops his now empty bottle and puts his head in hands. "It was back in Beacon Hills, and it was nothing like this. I just-" used to get off on how much he could manipulate the younger wolf.

 

Not in a sexual way, mostly it was for his fragile ego that had no idea how he was supposed to be a leader. Being able to dominate his most vulnerable pack mates - the ones who had no one else to back them up (like Isaac, like Jackson...) - was how he bolstered himself back then. "-I just used to leave very little rope for Jackson to have much of a say in anything."

 

Peter has a hard look on his face, but Derek isn't really able to read it. Chris apparently can. He slides a hand up Peter's back, his fingers threading through the hair at the nape of Peter's neck. It was a familiar and reassuring move, Derek yearns for that kind of support.

 

"You're not that man anymore." Peter finally breaks the silence that was sitting over them.

 

Derek flicks his eyes up to him, trying to ignore how much they sting.

 

"How do you know?"

 

Peter gives him a grin, "I'm a healthy believer in change."

 

Chris snorts, getting up - not before kissing Peter on the forehead, and giving Derek a slap on the back. He heads into the house for more beer, and to give them both a moment.

 

"I want to think I'm doing it right this time." Derek knows his voice is wrecked.

 

"Then you gotta' know it."

 

"How?"

 

Peter rolls his eyes but gets up and plonks himself down next to his nephew.

 

"I'm going to tell you thank you now."

 

"What for?"

 

Peter sighs dramatically, "for everything. For making space for me, for Chris here. For getting it together for Cora. For making sure I get it together for Malia. Fuck, I'm going to say thank you for managing to keep us all alive back in Beacon Hills." Peter pauses a moment and thinks about it, "well, almost alive in my case."

 

Derek's eyebrows are in his hairline, "I don't know what to say."

 

"You don't have to say anything. You just gotta' know that you're doing a great job. That I'm proud of you. As my nephew... As my alpha." Peter says the last bit like it's a sour taste in his mouth, but he gives Derek a rueful grin through it. "You've made being a Hale something to be proud of again."

 

Derek is crying, but it doesn't really seem to matter.

 

He snakes an arm around Peter's waist, bumping their cheeks before collapsing into his shoulder. "I have no fucking idea what I'm doing." He whispers into the man's shirt.

 

"Yeah, but you're doing it anyway, and that's the important part."

 

* * *

  


Derek was just starting dinner when Jackson arrived. He's forewarned by Lucy's excited yips at the door, and subsequent sprint outside. Jackson is holding a tiny toddler in his arms when he finally appears in the kitchen, and Derek has to put down the spatula in case he faints. Jackson was so easy with children, they apparently had no sense of pretence when it came to his arrogant smirks. And he loved them for it.

 

"Hey you," Derek calls, kissing Jackson on the cheek and making a fuss of the tiniest Hale. "And hello Miss Jemima. And you here for a sleepover?"

 

"No, just a quick visit." Cora answers him, coming through the door with a slightly haggard look on her face.

 

"Anything important?"

 

"Just need to root through some of the boxes in our old room." Derek had transformed Cora and Tony's old bedroom into a study when they got their own place down the road.

 

"They jumped me on the way in." Jackson says with a grin.

 

Jemima apparently loves the idea of jumping, and Jackson has her up in the air as requested. Her little ears popping out each time she goes into freefall.

 

"Am I feeding you all?" Derek asks.

 

"No, I need to get back. Tony is on the phone to his mother."

 

"Oh - are they asking again?"

 

"Yeah. We're still considering it, but it's Tony's decision."

 

Anthony nee. Branthom was not on speaking terms with his father, his old Alpha. Since Jemima had been born, his mother had been pressing for the chance to meet her granddaughter. It was messy, and they had all been dealing with the fall out.

 

"If he needs me to-"

 

"-we know Derek. And we're grateful, but it's not a territory thing. Unfortunately. It's just... Families." She says with a little smile.

 

Jackson snorts, "give me land disputes any day."

 

Derek thinks again about how Jackson's (adoptive) parents hadn't visited once since he'd moved back from London. _When did everything get so hard_ , he thinks morosely.

 

"You still up for doing our tax returns?" Cora asks Jackson, taking her daughter back on the hip and ruffling the man's hair.

 

"I live for it."

 

It takes about an hour for mother and daughter to get out the door and Derek to finally return to his paella. The onions are a bit crispy now, but that was never a problem.

 

"Wanna' set up in the study?" Derek asks as Jackson begins rifling through the day's paperwork.

 

"No, I'll stick with the table. Better view."

 

Derek cocks an eyebrow and pretends to start undoing his shirt buttons, before returning to the stove. The melodious tones of Damien Rice and the sizzling of chicken stock fill the kitchen. Almost masking the furious little sounds of Jackson making notes.

 

When he grabs the oak aged chardonnay for the food he pours two glasses, depositing one at Jackson's elbow.

 

"Thanks," Jackson answers, throwing back a gulp, before taking a second more measured sip.

 

"How's it going?"

 

"Boring, I miss being a fellow. Everything's the same these days. Tax loophole, tax loophole, charity expenses. I don't even get to handle fraud anymore."

 

"Ah, and we both know how much you love fraud."

 

"That's why I returned to the land of the free." Jackson has his cocky smirk on his face, but Derek can hear his frustration. With more confidence than he really feels, Derek scent marks Jackson. A gentle stroke along his neck, and a soft kiss his high on the man's cheek bone.

 

"Thanks," Jackson says quietly, leaning into the touch all the same.

 

Derek moves his lips down so he can introduce a deeper kiss, and enjoys the taste of the chardonnay on Jackson's lips. "You're welcome." He scratches out, his voice wrecked on the first hint of intimacy between them.

 

"Is the food going to burn if we keep making out?" Jackson asks with a smile.

 

"Probably, not enough of an incentive to leave you alone though."

 

"How about that the sooner I finish this, the sooner we can get out of these clothes."

 

"Now that's an incentive."

 

The food is unburned when they eat it. The rice is probably little overdone, but the salmon is cooked to perfection, so Derek thinks of it as a win. Jackson moans when he puts some of the soft pink flesh in his mouth, engorged with wine soaked sauce.

 

"I'm glad my cooking is finally up to scratch."

 

"You respond well to criticism."

 

"Jackson, your revulsion of gluten based carbs is not criticism. It's fussiness."

 

"You learnt how to make paella, I don't know why you're complaining."

 

"I'm not," Derek answers with a smile, "being allowed to provide for you is always a gift."

 

Jackson's cheeks go a little pink, and Derek can hear the stutter-stuck sound of his heart. Being a wolf is unfair sometimes, happiness is always harder to trace than fear. The acrid taste of anxiety mixes hotly with their wine.

 

Derek pushes on, "are you really thinking of leaving Cartwrights?" The accountancy firm he had completed his fellowship under wasn't easy to get into. The fact Jackson was given a full time job afterwards was unprecedented.

 

Jackson smiles a little at the change of subject, but then nits his eyebrows in concentration. "I don't know. It feels like too much of a risk."

 

"Because of the pay cut that would come with leaving?"

 

"Yeah, kinda'. Cartwrights was supposed to be my ticket into independence. Making my own fortune." _Living without his parent's support_ , Derek fills in.

 

"And leaving would mean less security."

 

"Yeah. But I know really it's just that I'm scared I'm giving up on who I used to want to be. And I don't know if I mentioned, but the people I work with are jerks."

 

"I think you mentioned." Lucy was whining slightly at Derek's feet. Jackson had a strict no begging policy, and never rewarded Lucy's petitions. Derek however had been desperate to get the haughty canine's approval. He had been feeding her scraps since the first night he stayed at Jackson's. He doesn't dare feed her in front of Jackson, but had already set aside some salmon chunks to drop on the floor when the man was busy.

 

"I don't want to be a dickhead."

 

Derek gives him a funny look, which was meant to convey that Jackson _wasn't really a jerk._ Jackson rolled his eyes all the same, "yeah, I know. I'm a prick, selfish, yadda' yadda', should probably just stay there."

 

"Hey no, that's not what I trying to say. You're not a prick, well, you can be a prick."

 

"Thanks."

 

"But you're..." _I love you, I love you, I love you,_ "I think you've grown. You've come into yourself. I feel like we all get to see the real Jackson now, and we all love that." It was close, but it was useless.

 

Jackson was giving him his little private smile again now, his cheeks growing a deeper pink. "There's a firm in Grand Rapids."

 

"Wow, you've actually been giving this a lot of thought then." Derek knows Jackson can hear his heartbeat race slightly. Grand rapids is a lot closer to Muskegon than Detroit. In fact, it's closer than Lansing is.  In fact, it would make more sense for Jackson to live in Muskegon. In fact- _Derek really needs to slow down_.

 

"Maybe. I've given it _a_ thought at least. I've made some tentative plans, nothing has been set in motion."

 

Derek forces himself to pick up another forkful of paella in an attempt to not completely lose his cool. What he'd give to know what Jackson is thinking right now.

 

"How long has this thought been around?"

 

Jackson pinches his lips, the way he does when he wants to lie but knows it's useless in front of Derek. "Long enough."

 

"Do you want a beer?" Derek suddenly asks.

 

Jackson looks at the nearly empty bottle of wine, "I'd take more white if you've got any."

 

Derek nods and heads into the utility room. Making a fuss of moving some things about, even though he knows exactly where in the big wine fridge another bottle of  chardonnay is. 'You need to get your fucking head together' he berates himself. 'Either suck it up and say something, or just chill out'.

 

He returns just as Jackson is snapping at Lucy to "get down" as she tries to reach Derek's plate. Jackson gives him a look the says, 'I know exactly why she thinks your food is fair game' and Derek can do nothing but shrug sheepishly.

 

They finish eating without the threat of _big conversations_. Jackson is funny when he's given the chance to be, wittier than Derek expected. He'd never thought the man stupid, but once he had assumed him shallow in regards to humour. It was a fool’s assumption, Jackson had been brought up in billiards rooms. One didn't survive there long without the ability to jibe.

 

It was probably why he and Lydia had dated for so long. (Derek doesn't think about Lydia often. A beautiful, powerful, redhead did not make easy competition). They had both finessed the art of playing dumb.

 

The dishes were in the sink, the second bottle of wine was finished, and Lucy was asleep by their feet. When at Derek's, her favourite place to be was on the rug by the couch that they inevitably gravitate to.

 

"-I'm going to have to get a new gym membership, there's no way even I can handle seeing the man again." Jackson laughed through the end of his story.

 

"Move in with me." The words came out easy in the end, tumbling out without hesitation.

 

Jackson purses his lips, but he's smiling through it, and that's all that matters. "What, in here?"

 

"Yeah. For now, just while I build a new house for us."

 

"You're going to build us a house?" Jackson's voice has gotten a bit higher - and possibly more amused - with every response.

 

"Yeah. For the whole pack, so if they needed everyone could stay over at once."

 

"Derek, they live down the road."

 

"I know, but I want a big house that everyone can stay... Like my parents had." Derek almost can't hear Jackson's heart rate, thanks to his own pounding in his ears.

 

Jackson sighs a little, "that sounds amazing. You should do it. But I don't have to move in just so you can have a big house Derek."

 

"No, you don't." It's coming, it's finally the time, "you should move in with me because I want you there. Every morning, every night... I'm mad about you, I'm surprised you didn't notice."

 

Jackson puts down his almost empty wine glass that he'd been clutching to his chest like a cross. Instead, hesitantly moving his hand to Derek's, "I noticed."

 

Derek looks into Jackson's eyes, scenting the air a little. _It's unfair how hard it is to read happiness._ "You're saying no."

 

"No," Jackson gives a little frown, and the rolls his eyes dramatically. "I mean, I'm not turning you down."

 

"Then..."

 

"If I did turn you down," Jackson begins, anxiety rolls off him in waves. Bitter acrid fear. "Would that be ok?"   _Will you still want me if I don't do what you ask of me._

 

Derek's thoughts flick to his conversation that afternoon with Chris and Peter. He feels the urge to shut down. He's embarrassed, and it makes him angry at himself. His anger doesn't commute well through his body language however. Derek can see that Jackson's own expression shut off. His body going rigid like he's expecting an attack. _It wouldn't be the first time you've hurt him._

 

Derek takes a deep breath, breathing out through his nose. Gingerly he let's go of the cushion cover, where his fist had unknowingly gripped in a vice. At some point Lucy had woken up, and her tail is struck in the air like a warning. Ready to defend her master if needed.

 

"I'm sorry for that," he whispers, his lips still in a frown. He gets off the couch to give Jackson some space. The younger man is still sitting unnaturally still, and his jaw his set. His arrogance the only armour he's wearing.

 

"I meant to say that of course you can turn me down... But I get that I didn't do a very good job of that." _Stupid, Derek is so utterly stupid. He should have just kept his mouth shut._

 

Jackson still hasn't moved, but the _thump thump thump_ of his heart is all the response Derek needs.

 

"I'm gonna' go upstairs. I'll take the study, you can sleep... Wherever you want. In here, in my room. Whatever makes you feel more comfortable."

 

Derek has his ears trained on Jackson all the way upstairs, just in case the man answers him.

 

It doesn't take long to get out the air mattress and make up a bed for himself. There was still a lot of bedding from when Cora and Tony lived with him. In a few minutes he has rearranged the furniture to fit the inflated double pallet on the floor.

 

Derek lies on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling trying to grasp what had happened. He'd fucked up. He'd seriously fucked up.

 

He started fucking up when he didn't actually ask Jackson to move in with him, and instead just told him to. "You're a grade A prick Derek," he berates himself.

 

It would have been salvageable if he had kept his cool, if he'd managed to stay calm. But no, his _stupid fucking_ temper had rolled in when he had started getting scared.

 

They were a mess. If Derek was being honest, maybe they'd been a mess the whole time. They weren't even a relationship, but even a casual arrangement couldn't function if one of the parties had so much power over.

 

 _He didn't ask for this power. He didn't ask for any of it._ He sighs, trying to hold Peter's words from earlier that day in his head. _'_ _You've made being a Hale something to be proud of again'._ Derek struggles to see the truth in them now.

 

He can hear Jackson let Lucy out into the garden. Then the clink of cutlery on ceramic and the rush of water. Jackson was doing the dishes. Derek is just coasting, listening to the sounds. The rhythmic noise of the boiler igniting every time Jackson ran the hot tap. Jackson letting Lucy in again, talking to her. Lucy's whine and delicate trotting around the kitchen. Jackson filling up a fresh bowl of water for her. Switching off the lights. Climbing up the stairs. Pausing, for a moment, outside the master bedroom. Continuing down the hallway.

 

Derek sits up as he watches Jackson come through the door. It's pitch black in the room, but he's confident in both their abilities to see one another.

 

He doesn't chance speaking. Watching silently as Jackson looks at him with hard eyes, his lips pressed into a line.

 

Delicately the man undoes his shirt buttons, getting them halfway done before pulling the whole thing up over his head. Derek can't tell what Jackson is thinking, for all his abilities, he never really knows. _Thump thump thump._

 

Derek is wearing nothing but boxers under his sheet, and Jackson strips until he matches him. Unveiling broad expanses of tightly chiselled flesh, that fold in aesthetically perfect lines, as he slips off his socks and joins Derek.

 

He can't help himself now, Derek reaches out cups Jackson's head and pulls him in to a deep kiss. Pushing all those unsaid words - better crafted sentiments - inside Jackson's mouth.

 

Finally when he breaks for air he shifts them around so he can lean over Jackson. Stare into the unfathomable eyes looking up at him, and kiss the eyelids closed. Derek scent marks Jackson, rubbing his jaw line against the man's cheek and hair line.

 

Finally, _finally,_ Jackson speaks, " _Alpha._ "

 

The word feels like ice in his veins, even as glows under the name.

 

"Wait-" Derek stutters, recoiling, putting space between them.

 

Jackson sits up too. _Thump thump thump._

 

"Jackson. Hey it's ok. It's ok." Derek feels a bit dizzy, "you don't have to come to my bed for this."

 

"I didn't-" _thump stutter thump._ Jackson falls silent, his lips pinched.

 

"Shit." Derek tears himself away from the bed, his stomach sinking by the second. "Shit, fuck."

 

Jackson goes to say something, and Derek just puts up a hand to silence him.

 

"How long?"

 

"What does that mean?"

 

"How _long_ has this been about... Shit. Has it always been about this?"

 

"About what?"

 

" _Don't play dumb with me!_ " Derek shouts, his eyes flashing red.

 

Jackson gives him an even stare, before baring his neck in submission. It breaks Derek.

 

He slumps to his knees and just stares at the floor. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

 

"It's not what you think it is." Jackson answers him.

 

Derek doesn't have any words to say. He feels like he's used them all up over the past four years. Four years of being an Alpha. Four years of starting over. Four years of lying to himself that he might not fuck it up this time.

 

"Maybe you don't remember what it's like to have an Alpha." Jackson whispers, his words hesitate - scared perhaps. But pressing on all the same. "A good one anyway."

 

Jackson isn't making any sense to him. Derek just feels so empty.

 

"It's not like you're Derek in one hand, and my Alpha in the other. It's just all you. Derek, my Alpha, my... boyfriend." Derek looks at him finally, Jackson has a distasteful look on his face. Like someone was forcing him to drink tripe. Derek listens cautiously: _thump... thump... thump..._

 

"I don't understand."

 

Jackson shrugs, "neither do I really." He rubs his bare shoulder a few times, as if he is cold. Derek has the urge to fetch him a jumper. "I never done any of this before. The... Family thing. The invested partner thing. Definitely not the wolf thing, I've pretty much just fucked that up since day one."

 

Derek can't help but defend him, "you're a brilliant wolf."

 

Jackson lets off an aura of excitement, perhaps pleasure.   _It's unfair how hard it is to read happiness._ "Maybe, maybe now. Thanks to you."

 

"That's not really how the story goes Jackson, and we both know it. I fucked things up from the start."

 

"Yeah, you did. But so did I... And it's not like any other Alpha I've met has been any better. You're the best Alpha I've ever known - maybe not then, but you are now."

 

Derek doesn't know what to say, "that doesn't change anything."

 

"It does for me." Jackson crawls closer to the edge the bed, a foot of space still between them. "I'm sorry Derek for not doing a better job at supporting you."

 

"Jackson, I'm supposed to be supporting you!"

 

"Yeah, but that's not a one way street. And fuck, I'm a prick to you. Always second guessing your intentions, pushing your limits. Flying off the handle the second you get angry. I know I'm a mess." _Thump thump thump._ Derek doesn't know whose heart he's listening to.

 

"This isn't how I thought this conversation was going to go."

 

Jackson snorts, "same."

 

"First... First I thought I'd tell you I love you and ask you to move in with me. And then I thought I'd be offering you a way out of this pack."

 

_Thump thump thump._

 

"I don't want out of this pack. Derek, please, tell me."

 

_Thump thump thump._

 

"I love you."

 

_It's unfair how hard it is to read happiness._

 

"Alpha."

 

 

* * *

  
  
  


### Epilogue: I Thought I Would Stop Running, Turns Out You Just Joined Me For The Ride.

  
  
  


Chris heaves a long sigh of relief when he gets in the car. He awkwardly twists his shoulder a few times, trying to work the muscle around an old battle wound. His shirt is stuck to his skin with sweat, but it barely muffles the crack of his bones falling into place. On the whole, his body aches.

 

Peter climbs in the driver seat, his mood chipper and face an obnoxious grin.

 

"Shut up." Chris scathes.

 

"The beauty is, that I don't have to say anything."

 

Chris rolls his eyes, "well make yourself useful, grab me some water and aspirin out the cool pack."

  
  


Peter leans across the console to reach the bag, wiggling his ass as he goes. "Slut." Chris jeers with affection. But he returns with only the water.

 

"Let me." Peter states without asking, his tone brokering no argument but warm all the same.

 

"Fine." The water is still appealingly chill, and it aids his parched throat. Whilst the heavy black lines of Peter's veins directly corresponds with the relief his aching body feels.

 

"I guess we should call it quits earlier tomorrow then." Peter smiles, his free hand rubbing Chris' temple.

 

"I'll be alright." It was hard being the only human in a group of wolves. It made you feel mortal in a way Chris never had before.

 

Peter rolled his eyes, retracting his hand, and turning the ignition on the car. "At the least you're gonna' cut out all that heavy lifting. Go mix some cement or something. Make Derek slug all those beams up the drive."

 

"Derek is busy laying every brick he can physically get his hands on. I'm pretty sure he's determined to build the entire first floor himself." As a pack they'd been working on the new Hale House for the past six months.

 

Derek had been working as a contractor since they got to Michigan four years ago. He had curated his original cabin, built Cora and Tony's house, and organised fixing up their house before they moved in. This house however he'd gone above and beyond. He had done the majority of the architecture himself. Obsessively designed nearly all the fittings, and appeared to be trying to physically build every inch of the house he could.

 

The pack were all helping out in some way. (Tony's duties appeared to mostly be baby sitting responsibilities while his wife learnt how to mix cement). But Jackson still had work, and Malia was trying out community college. So Chris and Peter had been heading over every day, bemoaning Derek's lack of hired help.

 

"Yeah, he's being a prat." Peter answered, deftly speeding down the empty dirt roads along the state park they called their territory.

 

"He's going to burn out if he doesn't slow down," Chris warned.

 

"I doubt it."

 

"What's that supposed to mean."

 

Peter shrugged, "he's a Hale."

 

"Which means what exactly? Because I don't need to remind you that even wolves have breaking points." There wasn't a day that Peter forgot that Chris was a hunter. The man had wolfsbane in his blood. Peter did not doubt that if needed, Chris would put him down without hesitating. He just knows that Chris would hate himself for it. And probably would be pretty fucking pissed that Peter had pushed him to that point.

 

"It means that he is a stubborn idiot. But when he wants something, there's nothing that will stop him getting it." Peter had fire in his eyes, even though he was relaxed. Wielding the car's stick like he was saying nothing of importance. He casts Chris a little smirk, knowing his ruse is fooling no one.

 

"You're saying that Derek wants this house like you wanted revenge."

 

Peter rolled his eyes, "you ruin all my favourite theatrics. _No_ , obviously. Derek isn't a sociopath" - neither of them acknowledge what Peter is saying there - "he just needs this."

 

Chris puts his hand on Peter's arm, squeezing it a little.

 

"You know, I've never been part of a pack before."

 

Peter flicks his eyes to him, they are almost home now. They truly did live a stones throw away from the new Hale house. In the quiet of the night, he could hear when Derek had stayed at the construction site.

 

"And what does _that_ mean."

 

"Well, I don't think I'll ever be calling Derek Alpha."

 

Chris smiles a little at Peter's reaction. The wolf's fingers twitch on the steering wheel, and he blinks slowly. Chris knows him well enough for when he's resisting the urge to shift. Fortunately, Peter knows him just as well back, and gives him a pointed look, "not funny."

 

"For you."

 

The car pulls up outside their house and Devin gives them a bark from the porch. Happy to see them, but wholly uninterested in expending energy on approaching them.

 

The minute Chris gets inside, dropping his indecently heavy bag on the floor, Peter crowds him up against the wall.

 

"I don't want you calling Derek... Alpha." He buts against Chris' jaw, licking his ear and down his neck, before nuzzle the man's neck.

 

"Oh, are you saying you don't want me in the pack?"

 

Peter growls and bites him with blunt human teeth. Chris laughs at his theatrics. "No," comes the muffled response.

 

"Ohhh, so you're saying you want me to call someone _else_ Alpha."

 

Peter growls again, hiding his face fully in Chris' neck and collar. But his dick is hard, and he ruts it a little against Chris' thigh. "Shut it." He says, halfhearted.

 

Chris slides a hand under Peter's shirt, gripping the man's hip and encouraging him to continue running his dick up against Chris' leg.

 

"It's ok, you can tell me... Ask me to say it and I will."

 

Peter growls harder. Chris can hear the wall paper crack where Peter must be digging his claws into it, just inches from Chris' head.

 

"This isn't a road I thought you'd encourage me going down." Peter's words are breathier than normal. And Chris wants to kiss him, clean away all his deeply buried insecurities.

 

"With me you can go down any road," he answers, dragging a hand through Peter's hair. Letting it rest at the nape of Peter's neck. Peter shivers at the feeling.

 

Peter shifts to a wolf's mouth and presses his teeth against Chris neck, so the man has to arch his jaw up to stop himself from being cut. "If I was, I'd turn you. The same night. I wouldn't be able to touch you without making you my Beta."

 

Chris' heart races, and his own erection throbs in his jeans. You don't go twenty five years being a hunter without getting off on the idea of danger.

 

"I couldn't let you." Chris feels like the air was getting thin in the room in response to how thick the tension between them was.

 

"I know."

 

But then like that, Peter moves away, shaking off his wolfish features. He gives Chris a grin, which is as soft as it is playful. Offering out a hand.

 

Chris loves him.

 

"I love you."

 

Chris loves him for all his darkness, and his sins. Loves him in spite of killing his sister, as well as because of it. Loves him because he wants to destroy everything they have, and because he has the strength to resist it.

 

"I know," Peter says again with an even slyer grin.

 

"Prat." Chris takes his hand.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Warnings (spoilers) -  
> references to Derek being an abusive Alpha in the past. Backlash of that history appear in their relationship.  
> At multiple moments, Jackson and Derek could be described as having panic attacks. 
> 
> \---


End file.
